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<title>The Angels That Haunt Him by JackTheKit_Kat</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22901161">The Angels That Haunt Him</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackTheKit_Kat/pseuds/JackTheKit_Kat'>JackTheKit_Kat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Egos [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>CrankGameplays - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dehumanization, Kinda, Minor Character Death, Other, degredation, emotional fuckery, hes only in the first chapter, not kinky tho</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:42:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,011</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22901161</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackTheKit_Kat/pseuds/JackTheKit_Kat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been a week. A week since Memento arrived to the ego house. A week since this never ending nightmare started.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Egos [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1646092</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Angels That Haunt Him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a week. A week since Memento arrived to the ego house. A week since this never ending nightmare started. But, to understand why Host reacted the way he did, you first have to understand his past. Or, the parts before he was The Host, or even The Author.</p><p>Isaac grew up in a poor family. He didn't have a lot. And what he did manage to get, he never kept. So it wasn’t a surprise that he came home on his 18th birthday to his bags packed and on the front porch. “Wonder where they got the money to change the locks,” He mumbled, inspecting the door. He picked up his stuff and wondered where he was going to live.</p><p>Months later and he found himself camped out in a cabin, tired, and hungry. Finding a job was hard. So it was no surprise he didn't have one. All he had was a few pairs of clothes, an old chest binder with a few holes in the back, and his notebook. But it was almost full. He sighed. He’d have to find a way to get some money soon.</p><p>Now, it's important that you know, Isaac wasn’t a religious man. He was actively an atheist. So when a flash of light occurs outside his door, his first thought was lightning. But when he opened his door to the knocking outside of it, He was surprised to find two nicely dressed men with wings sprouting from their backs. The shorter one smiled, waving. “Hello there!” He greeted, causing Isaac to stumble back, a surprised noise wrenched itself from his mouth. The taller man just laughed, his wings bouncing a bit.</p><p>“What are you?” Was the first sentence out of Isaac’s confused mouth. The taller one scowled, but went back to a neutral expression when the shorter one placed a hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“Angels.” They both said at the same time.</p><p>Author frowned. “Like… Angels that work for god?” That got a good scowl for both of them.</p><p>“Why would we work for a god?” The tall one scowled.</p><p>“S-Sorry.” He stuttered, Backing up more when they entered the house. “If you’re angels, why are you here?”</p><p>They exchanged a glance. The short one moved forward. What happened next was burned into Isaacs memory. The angel gently grabbed Isaacs chin. "How strangely beautiful." He smiled. Isaac couldn't help the tears falling from his eyes. It was like looking at the sun. It burned. The one behind this Angel chuckled.</p><p>"He will work just fine." Isaac had never felt more afraid in his life. “We have come to give you a blessing.”</p><p>Isaac nodded, “Why me?”</p><p>The short one smiled softly. “For fun. Consider it an experiment.” He kissed Isaac softly, letting out a surge of power. Isaac screamed through the kiss, body feeling like it was on fire. He passed out.</p><p>When he woke up the angels weren’t there. He almost felt like it was a dream. But there was a new notebook on his table, and his body was more sore than it had ever been. He got up slowly, limping to the table. He opened it, there was a note.</p><p>‘Try writing something you want to happen!<br/>
See you soon! Be good toy!<br/>
Memento + Mori!’</p><p>Something, well, a lot about that made him uncomfortable. But he might as well try it. He wrote a simple sentence.</p><p>‘There were pain relievers on the table.’</p><p>Nothing happened. He groaned. Maybe it was too vague. There were a lot of Isaacs, and probably some with his last name. He rubbed his temple, thinking of a way to distinguish himself. He just wanted to write without having to think about this stuff. He groaned. Then had an idea.</p><p>‘The author of this book finds pain relievers on the table in front of him.’ He looked up, finding a small bottle of Tylenol. His eyes widened. Then he grinned. There was a lot he could do with this power. Ideas ran through his mind and he wrote the night away.</p><p>Five years into the future and the angels haunted his nightmares. It wasn't that bad at first. But now the nightmares were nightly. He would wake up screaming, feeling like his skin was on fire. Voices whispered in his ears, arguing. He talked back to them gently. One had been particularly loud as of late. It was him, but, different. He could never get a good view of the alter. But they both couldn't go by Isaac. The solution was for Author to stay as Author, and the other Isaac to go by Host, seeing as he always talked the same way Author wrote. But today he was so tired. He hadn't been able to get more than an hour of sleep at a time, dreaming about those two. He panted, laying in his bed. Host was muttering in the back of his mind.</p><p>“If you’re going to be annoying you can at least front.” He grumbled, getting up. He stumbled to the kitchen, making himself coffee. He was feeling something in his gut. That aching feeling he got when he was younger. When was the last time he took his meds? He mumbled that he’d take them later.</p><p>He sat at his desk. Unmotivated. He laid his head in his arms… That was the night he died. At the end of it all, he sat there, bleeding, gouged out eyes on the floor, His chest mangled, heaving. He sat there, smiling. He panted softly. Then he laughed. Then Author was gone. And Host was there, fronting, and ironically, the host of the system.</p><p>“A doctor will find the Hosts body.” He said weakly, before passing out.</p><p>And find him a doctor did. And the doctor took him to the ego manor.</p><p>Host woke up the next day, IVs poking into his arm, he was muttering, lifting a hand to the cloth covering his eyes. A grim understanding spread through him.</p><p>Now that you understand this, we can get onto the story.</p>
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